Written in the Dark
by water-dancers
Summary: Ginny needs some sort of closure, so she writes to the deceased Tom Riddle expressing her forgiveness of his horrible acts. She wasn't expecting a reply.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello, everyone. It's been so long since I've even glanced at this work. I wrote it when I was around sixteen years old and just now have decided to dip my hands back into it. I have several chapters pre-written but I have a huge amount that still needs to be written. I thought I would upload the chapters already written by little teenage me, and begin working on finally finishing this story after so many years. I hope you enjoy and I'm always open to ideas. Thanks.

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><p><strong><span><em>Chapter One<em>**

Ginny had been sitting at her desk for several hours contemplating what to write. If she should write at all, that is.

Her quill firmly in her left hand looming over clear parchment with a flower design gracing the corners, the feather tip in her mouth as she sucked on it, ever thinking.

With a sigh that was mingled in both defeat and determination she reached her conclusion. She would write the letter if only to vent her feelings. She practically _had_ to. If she didn't these thoughts would surely consume her from the inside out.

In pretty cursive writing she began;

_It's been so long since we've last talked._

She glanced over this line and promptly scratched it out. It sounded as if she was writing to Hermione or Luna, which she certainly was not.

_Hullo,_

No, that wouldn't do either.

_Dear Tom_

Again she drew a strike through this. _Dear_ and _Tom_ couldn't go together. It was pure blasphemy.

Finally the redhead decided she would keep this letter short, sweet, and simple.

With a flourish of her wrist she began on a clear piece of parchment, now determined in what she had to say.

_It has been six years since you took me down into the Chamber of Secrets and I still remember every detail as vividly as if it was yesterday, and I remember everything you said and did leading up to the horrific day._

Yes, that was a good start. She thought as she continued on.

_For a long time I've hated you, but now I've realized something. Hate poisons a person from the inside, slowly corroding and destroying everything good in them; you were the perfect example of that. I will not hold onto hate you attempted to poison me with._

_It's been exactly six years since The Chamber incident. It has been a little over five months since the man you grew to become fell by the hands of Harry._

She couldn't help but smile at the last bit. She felt a bitter happiness that came with memory of the hard won battle that was still so fresh in many's minds.

_You are gone, in all incarnations, and I feel a need to place an end on this chapter of my life and begin with the next, but I can't do this without admitting something, something that would horrify those I love. Something I can only tell you as you rot in the grave. Simply put, Tom._

_I forgive you._

Ginny re-read the letter quickly. It was a little longer than she originally had intended, but she thought it would do.

"Now what to do with it?" she wondered out loud as she absentmindedly folding the letter and placed it in an envelope as was habit.

She could always burn it down stairs in the fire. The point of this whole exercise was to get a weight off of her chest, and now that that weight had been lifted the letter could easily be burnt to a crisp.

She considered this for a moment before deciding a letter so personal had to be delivered properly. To whom, and to where Ginny did not know, but as she called her new owl Persephone to her side and tied the letter to her knobby leg she felt a little silly. Tom had long since died, and Voldemort was dead as well. There was no other Tom Riddle left to receive this letter. Worst case scenario Persephone would fly about for a week or so looking for the recipient before growing frustrated and simply dumping the letter off with any old joe named Tom.

She hesitated opening the window. She was being _childish, _she thought to herself. All she would accomplish by sending her owl out with that letter would be the confusion of some unknowing chap named Tom.

_No_, a part of her mind told her. _You'll be making a statement_._ A symbolic statement that you are no longer holding on to that debilitating hatred in you._ _You are letting it go with the bird. Symbolism, Ginny, symbolism._

"Symbolism," Ginny muttered as she opened the window. The barn owl flapped over to the window perch gracefully and awaited a name for it hadn't been written on the envelope.

"Take this to Tom," she told the bird after giving it a firm pat on the head. It didn't matter which Tom in the world it went to really, any Tom would do.

As expected Persephone stayed gone for awhile, a week and half to be exact.

"Whoever did you send a letter to, Gin?" her mother had asked her upon not seeing the bird for eight days straight.

"A friend," was her only reply.

When the owl finally did return she looked as if she'd been to hell and back. Ginny smirked grimly at the turn of phrase considering the situation.

The once spotless barn owl with the finest, shiniest brown feathers was now a ruffled mess. Dirt and grim caked her and it looked as if she'd been attacked by something.

Ginny promptly used a spell to tend to the wound. First to ward off infection and then to heal it to the best of her ability. Satisfied knowing only Hermione could have done better she smiled weakly at her companion and rubbed underneath her chin. "Thanks -" Ginny's gratitude was short lived as were her rubs that Persephone were immensely enjoying. Brown eyes had caught the sight of something peculiar tied to the leg of the owl.

She reached for it expecting to find her letter had never been delivered at all only to notice instantly from the feel and look of the parchment that this was not any she owned.

Ginny's stomach sank.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Well here you go. Chapter two. I'll try to release a new chapter every three to five weeks, at least for the foreseeable future. Thank you all for your kind reviews. It really does make me want to finish this story.

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><p><span><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

The parchment had been blank.

There were no words scribbled on it. No marks, no splotches. A quill had seemingly never touched the sanguine paper. Whoever had received the letter thought, for some reason, to send back a blank piece of parchment. Were they mocking her? She wondered. This stranger who had received her heartfelt letter, was he trying to play some sort of trick? The man, whoever he was, would have no idea of knowing that the original supposed recipient of the letter was dead and could possibly think he was taking the mickey out of someone by sending a blank piece of parchment as if the intended receiver thought less than nothing of the confession.

Somewhere Ginny imagined a boy (who for some reason looked a lot like her mischievous brother George) reading over the letter and deciding to have a bit of fun with the person.

Not funny.

With a bit of her temper sneaking up on her Ginny rushed down the stairs into the kitchen to dispose of the blank letter. Before she could dispose of the letter she noticed something she had overlooked before. The envelope in which the letter came, the one that was now scrunched up in her hand, she could faintly make out ink marks on the crumbled piece of paper.

Swearing to herself that this wasn't there before she unfurled it to see a neat script written on the front of the envelope entitled _Ginevra_.

Ginny felt bile rise into her throat as she desperately tried to remember if she had included her name in the sent letter.

_I don't think so, but I don't know_, she worried._ I- I -_

"Ginny, you look as pale as a ghost!" Ron had come around the corner and was holding a large tray of pasties. Though still continually stuffing his mouth, he looked concerned for his younger sister. "Is something the matter?"

Ginny cleared her throat fearing her voice would sound awfully weak and horse. "No, nothing at all," she plastered a fake smile on her face before she chucked the parchment and envelope into the fire. Bright red flames flared as it was immediately dissolved.

"What was that?" Ron gestured to the fire.

Ginny felt a prickle of annoyance rise within her but fought it back down like a good, mature girl. Ron was always so nosy, though. "A letter," she answered shortly.

"Oh," Ron said with a mouth full of cake. "From someone you don't like I take it?" he asked, not waiting for the answer as he left the way he came and trudged back up to his room, sweets in tow.

"Something like that..." Ginny muttered as he left.

Again she found herself sitting back at her desk searching for the right words to say. This time, since it wasn't a heartfelt confession, the words came easier to her.

_Did I tell you my name? Who are you?_

It wasn't much of a letter but it was all Ginny really wanted to know. How did this mystery man know her name? Surely she must have included it in her letter but she couldn't for the life of her remember where or in what context.

A uneasy feeling had settled in Ginny's bones since noticing her neatly scrawled name. It wasn't Tom's writing, at least it couldn't have been, and she found it hard to believe she had ever once referred to herself as Ginevra in the letter. Ginny, maybe, but not _Ginevra_.

Shaking the feeling of foreboding that had consumed her she gave Persephone the short and curt letter and allowed her to swoop out of her room.

This time it took two weeks. Again the owl returned weather beaten and hectic looking.

And again she returned with a letter.

This time Ginny scrutinized the front and back of the envelope, determined to see anything that may be on there or may decide to pop up. No scribbles appeared. With a sigh of relief (it didn't seem enchanted) she opened the envelope to see a single word, or name rather, scrawled on the parchment.

_Tom._

Ginny wasted no time running over to her desk and grabbing a quill.

_Tom who?_

She wrote so quickly her wrist cracked with effort.

_Where are you from? You didn't answer my question either; how did you know my name?_

Persephone barely had five minutes to rest before Ginny was attempting to tie a letter onto her leg. The bird squawked and flapped her wings in protest. Ginny was in no mood for this.

"Look here Seph," she said firmly "You will take this letter to the same man you took it too before, understood?" The bird pecked at her hand hard enough to draw blood if Ginny hadn't jerked her hand away. "That's what you are here for!" Ginny raised her voice in anger the lousy bird. Finally after a stare-down between human and bird the owl opened it's beak willing to accept the letter. Triumphantly Ginny stuck the letter into her mouth.

Before the barn owl took off Ginny patted it on the head only to have to swoop out her still open window indignantly, obviously not wanting Ginny's comfort.

The redhead girl took a seat back at her desk and toyed with her quill idly. She had about a week to wait for a reply, she reckoned.

It would be a long, _long_ week.


End file.
